


Desmodus Mortiferum

by kunterbunt



Category: Castle, Doctor Strange (2016), Doctor Strange (Comics)
Genre: Case Fic, Crime Solving, Flirting, Gen, Magical fun, Things from the Dungeon Dimension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunterbunt/pseuds/kunterbunt
Summary: A murder mystery in typical Castle & Beckett fashion, with a certain sexy magician thrown in ...





	

Kate Beckett had seen a lot of weird homicides in her career. New York city just seemed to breed them. There had been the nanny in the spin dryer, the man crushed by a stone gargoyle and the crunchy chef in the pizza oven. But today’s murder scene still managed to surprise her. 

The victim was Sonya Carparov, 42 y., successful business woman in the cut-thoat market of mysticism and tarot card reading. She sat in her living room at an antique table, a full deck spread out in front of her. Beckett noticed that the victim still held the card depicting Death in her hand. Quite a macabre detail. Carparov’s fingers looked waxen, as did the rest of her body. She could have been a sculpture at Madame Tussauds, apart from the fact that her corpse pulsed with an eldritch light. It shone through her old-fashioned dress and bathed the whole room in a sickly yellow glow that washed out every other colour. The whole scene looked like a sepia photography from another century. 

Castle gave an appreciative whistle. „Well, that’s bizarre. Whatever could have ...? Hey, I know: Spontaneous combastion gone wrong!“ 

It wasn’t the most outlandish theory he’d ever come up with. Beckett had gotten used to his quirky ideas and tried not to dismiss them out of hand, because surprisingly often they hinted in the right direction. Still, someone had to be the voice of reason in their partnership. „I’m sure there’s going to be a totally logical explanation.“ 

„Like what? The killer injected her with LED lights?“

Beckett just rolled her eyes and adressed the constable on duty. „I was told that you’ve got a suspect here.“

"Yepp. The strange and unususal kind“, the young man nodded. He wore dreadlocks over his uniform, which had to get him in all kinds of trouble with his superiors. Beckett liked him instantly for that. „The neighbours called because they heard ‚blood-curdling screams’. We broke the door down and found the guy leaning over her body in the chair and ... I don’t know ... sniffing her? I won’t even start on his clothes. We parked him in the room where Mrs Carparov kept all her preps, incence and stuff. You’ll see what I mean.“ 

Beckett did indeed. The man throned in an armchair, with armed police next to him, and looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. His posture plus the black goatee screamed Hollywood Villain and his outfit fittet the theme. It included a medieval tunic with armguards, a heavy necklace and a blood red cape. Beckett did her best to keep a neutral face. 

She had to admit that the look suited him, though. He carried it off with an arrogant confidence that made the whole package enormously attractive. Sharp features, short untamed curls, raptor eyes. Quite stunning. Beckett bit her lip and told herself to get her thoughts out of the gutter, but well ... her on-and-off-thing with Castle proved that she had a weakness for the narcissist type and rakish good looks. Perhaps she could convince Castle to grow a goatee. 

Or not. Dark & mysterious wouldn’t really work for him.

She darted a glance at her partner and discovered that he, too, had a stunned look on his face. Beckett assumed that in his case it wasn’t sexual attraction. 

„Stephen Strange?“, he said with a frown. „Dr. Stephen Strange?“

The man lifted an eyebrow. „Yes?“

Castle’s whole face lit up. „I always wanted to meet you in person. That’s so cool!“ He turned towards Beckett with his trademark enthusiasm, eyes sparkling, all but bouncing with eagerness. „He’s a world famous neurosurgeon. Held a speech at a beneficial gala I went to. I didn’t understand half of it, but it was brillant anyway. About the brain, free will and the soul.“

„That topic might have been slightly presumtious of me“, Dr. Strange said. 

„You are a neurosurgeon?“ Becket looked at him sceptically.

„I was.“ He lifted his hands which were scarred and trembling.

„Shit“, Castle said. „How did that happen?“

„By my own stupidity, I’m afraid. I drove a Lambourghini at a 100 miles an hour while texting a collegue. Went right over a cliffside.“ He shrugged. 

Becket gave him a considering look. „I see. So what do you do these days, Dr. Strange? And why are you here ... in the flat of a murder victim?“ 

He was the main suspect at the moment. There had been no sign of forced entry, so forensics assumed that Mrs. Carparov must have let her killer in. The only person around was Strange which meant that he had to be it. Easy. But Becket mistrusted simple answers. In one memorable case the person found leaning over the corpse had been Castle. Twice in a row. That hadn’t made him the killer, either.

„Sonya Carparov called me and asked for help. As a favour between collegues, so to say. Three friends of her have vanished recently and she was worried that she might be the next.“ He leaned forward and handed her a card. It had the job title „Sorcerer Supreme“ printed on it. Becket stared at it. 

„So you are a stage magician?“, she ventured.

„Something like that“, Dr. Strange answered.

Castle frowned. „Now that doesn’t fit. You’d need a lot of dexterity for that job. Sorry if I’m being blunt, but...“

Strange gave him a faint smile. „No, that’s fine. Very observant of you.“ He sighed. „I assume you’re not going to believe me if I tell you that magic exists and my title is quite legitimate?“

Beckett’s face must have said it all. 

„Mrs Carparov wasn’t very powerful, but she was a true practioner of the mystical arts, and my responsibility. As were the other three women who vanished“, Strange explained.

„Honestly?“ Castle looked at him with wide eyes. Then he turned to Beckett. „See? I always told you stuff like that was for real.“

„Castle ...“ She massaged her forehead. „Could we please not start that argument all over again?“

„But he’s a sorcerer!“ He craned his neck to peek over her shoulder and pointed towards the paper square in her hand. „It even says so on his business card.“ 

Strange interrupted their bickering. „I assume that you’ve noticed the broken mirror in the hall?“, he asked. 

Beckett turned towards his armchair with a frown. „Yes. Of course. The glass shards were all over the place.“ She couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice. „Is that supposed to mean something special in the world of magic?“

„Actually, yes. I’m fairly sure that I know what happened to Mrs Carparov. The state of her body doesn’t leave many possible options. Then there’s the smell of deadly nightshade all over the corpse. And the cracked mirror.“ He pointed to the bookshelf. „Could you hand me the tome over there? The one that looks like an old encyclopedia. Yes, that one.“ 

He nodded his thanks to Castle who passed him the book without hestitation. Potentially destroying fingerprints and evidence. Sometime Beckett despaired of him, but it was too late to intervene now. Back at the station she and Castle would have a long chat about proper police procedure. Again. Not that it ever helped.

Strange browsed through the pages and murmered: „Wong would have a fit if he knew she kept it between ’Yoga with Pets’ and ’Your Soul is a Rainbow’. Ah, there we have the incantation. I just knew it would be in here. Why can’t amateurs stop meddling.“ He sighed and his piercing eyes found Beckett. „So, it looks like Mrs Carparov and her friends wanted to extent their business and dabble in séances as well as tarot card reading. Sadly, they attracted the attention of something they couldn’t handle.“

Castle perked up at that. „A vengueful ghost, right?“, he asked eagerly. 

Strange snorted. „No, something a lot more mundane. Let’s call it a parasite.“ He leaned back in the armchair and steepled his hands, going into lecture mode. „The latin name is _desmodus mortiferum_ , which is derived from the vampire bat, because these creatures drain the magic from their victims. They live in another dimension but can cross over by the way of mirrors. At least, if you open the way for them. Nasty things. Semi-intelligent, even if they’re mainly driven by instinct and hunger. One of them must have gotten the scent of Mrs Carparov and the other practitioners. It fed on them whenever it wanted a snack, attacking one after the other, until it had consumed them all. There was probably nothing left of the three ladies but burnt-out dust. In other words, no evidence. – Would you allow me to perform a little experiment, Detective?“

Beckett narrowed her eyes at him. „Like what?“

„I’ve probably interrupted a feeding when I came into the flat. The light emanating from Mrs Carparov’s corpse must be the remnants of her magical power that were getting drawn out through her skin. That means the bat should still be hungry.“ 

„Yack“, Castle commented. „So you wanna do what?“

„Act as bait. There’s a good chance that the _desmodus mortiferum_ is still around. It would hate to leave a meal half eaten. And I’m actually much tastier than Mrs Caparov. All I have to do is dangle my power in front of it’s nose to draw it out and then, well, deal with it.“

Castle swallowed. „You think there’s a man-eating bat hanging around somewhere in the flat, just waiting to attack?“ He looked nervously over his shoulder. The prep room was stuffed full with all kinds of costumes, candles, chinese gongs, incence bowls and new age books. There were enough dark corners to hide in if you happened to be a monster from another dimension.

Beckett mouthed ’man-eating bat’ to herself.

„No, I think it fled trough the mirror, breaking the glass in it’s haste. But it’s probably waiting right on the other side in the hope that it can resume its feeding.“

Castle nodded as if all of this sounded perfectly sane. „So that means you need a new mirror to draw it out into the open. One that isn’t cracked“, he concluded. „Okay, let’s go search the flat together. I bet there’s one in her bedroom.“ 

He led the way and Beckett reluctantly followed. So did the police constable with the dreadlocks. He had drawn his weapon, just in case this turned out to be an elaborate escape attempt, and didn’t let Strange out of his sight.

\-----------------------------------------------------

The bedroom _did_ have a mirror. It was huge and guilded, with little cherubs decorating the frame. 

Strange placed himself in the center of the room and lifted his trembling hands. In a commanding voice he said: „Stay away, would you? And keep your weapons down. Bullets would just annoy it and make it even more ferocious.“

Beckett hestitated. She didn’t like to be ordered around, especially not by a suspect with unknown intentions. But Castle just grapped her arm and pulled her into the shadow of a huge wardrobe. He peeked around the corner and waved to the constable. „Come on, you too. Don’t be a spoilsport. I wanna see this.“ 

When the constable didn’t budge, Strange arched an eyebrow. „I’m quite aware that I’m still under arrest. You don’t have to stay in grapping distance to guard me. What exactly do you expect me to do? Vanish into thin air?“

The constable shrugged. „Could be. I mean, Sorcerer Supreme and all.“ But he relented and joined Beckett and Castle behind the wardrobe.

„So, now what?“, Beckett asked.

In response, Strange made a complicated gesture with his scarred hands. The air between them lighted up in the same kind of eerie glow that emanated from Mrs. Caparov’s corpse. A circular disk appeared and grew until it resembled a fiery battle shield. Foreign symbols sparkled across the surface. The design reminded her of a mandala or an exotic piece of art. It looked utterly amazing. Beckett blinked. 

It had to be some kind of trick. It just _had_ to be. 

„Hah, I told you so“, Castle whisper-gloated and did a little victory dance behind the wardrobe. „There’s more between heaven and earth ...“

„Oh, stop misquoting Shakespeare“, Beckett said. 

For a long moment Strange just stood there, staring at the mirror and waiting. His stance was alert and battle-ready. The overdramatic cloak seemed to move and billow by itself like a living thing. It left the distinct impression of having a will of its own. Beckett had to admit that this special effect freaked her out more than the fire mandala. TV wizards always threw energy stuff around, that was normal somehow. But being in the same room as a sentient piece of fabric was utterly alien. It made her feel self-conscious and ... watched? 

All of a sudden a nightmarish figure delved out of the mirror and lunged at Strange. 

It _did_ look like an giant bat. Vaguely. 

Paperthin wings were covered with a net of blue arteries. The body was wrinkled and naked, no fur at all, which made it appear obscenly human. Instead of a mouth it had a big round hole in the middle of its face. Like a monstrous leech. In short, it looked creepy beyond words. Beckett gripped her weapon, even if it wouldn’t help much, according to Strange. The heavy metal in her hand still felt reassuring. 

A short, brutal battle ensued. The creature attacked, screetching like a banshee, and was flung back by the mandala shield which Strange swung like an experienced warrior. Power crackled, the smell of ozone filled the air. Bat wings thrashed as the beast tried to get at Strange again and again with mindless ferocity. It couldn’t break through his defenses, but at the same time it moved so quickly that Strange couldn’t really hurt it. For several minutes they were caught in a stalemate. Whenever Strange tried to hit it with something magical, the creature had already flitted someplace else. Beckett was very, very glad that it never even cast a look in their direction. 

The battle could have gone on like that for quite a while, but then Strange’s cape lost patience. Castle made a suppressed sound of glee when the crimson cloth flung itself from the shoulders of its master and went into action by itself. It swept towards the creature and wrapped it up from head to toe. The bat struggled madly inside, bulging out the fabric, but had no chance to break free. 

Strange quirked a smile. „My hero“, he said and nodded a thanks to his cloak. „Right on time as always.“ He raised his right hand and blasted the bat with a lightning bolt. Or something. At least, it was very bright and loud. The creature went abruply still.

„Uh, is it dead?“, Castle asked.

„Hopefully“, Strange said.

The cloak unwrapped what was left of the bat – a stinking, smoking pile of bones – and shook itself like a wet dog. Its whole posture radiated disgust. It tried to dust itself down, using one of its corners to pat energetically at the rest of the fabric. Beckett had to press her lips together not to laugh. For a superhero cape it really had character.

„My apologies, I know how much you hate that kind of unpleasentness “, Strange said. „I’ll give you a good, long brushing when we get home.“ 

Mollified, the cape sailed through the air and returned to its place on Strange’s shoulders. Beckett saw the collar rub over his cheek in a quick caress. The gesture looked weirdly intimate for a piece of fabric. 

She cleared her throat. „Okay. That homicide is solved, I guess. And I haven’t the slightest idea what to put into my report.“ Most of her cases were a lot more complicated, not handed to her on a platter, but she couldn’t complain about this one being _simple_ exactly. Less false leads, more general weirdness. Well, she could have a breakdown about magic and other dimensions later, when she was off duty. „You are the novel writer, Castle. I hope you’ll come up with something plausible.“ 

„Spontanous combastion?“, Castle suggested hopefully.

„You just want to see the Captain throw a fit, do you? Well, at least that’s better than the truth.“

Strange cleared his throat. „I take it that I’m no longer needed here? If your constable has crossed me of his suspect list, there’s other things I have to attent to.“

Beckett nodded. „Yes, of course. In case of further questions I can always ring you at the –“, she looked at his business card, „... Sanctum Sanctorum. Whatever that may be.“

A mischievious sparkle lit up his eyes. „It’s full of exotic artifacts. Well worth a visit. I’ll take you on a tour of exploration that you’ll love, I’m sure. Consult me whenever you like, Detective.“ With those words, he painted a ring of light into the air, stepped through and vanished. Huh.

„Well, that explains how he got into the apartment in the first place“, Beckett stated deadpan. She played around with the business card in her hand, a speculative look in her eyes. Perhaps she would take Dr. Strange up on his invitation. If she wasn’t mistaken, he wanted to show her more than just his artifacts. 

Mysterious, competent, good looking ... He seemed just perfect. And besides, Castle in a fit of jealousy was always such fun to watch.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to imagine a future threesome with Beckett, Dr. Strange and his Cloak. I certainly did. (Not going to write that, though. There’s still the novel-length „Mischief managed“ waiting for updates.)


End file.
